Hale High School
by CallMeCrazyx
Summary: Welcome to the P.G. Hale High School for the Werewolves and their Affiliates, established 1810! We offer courses for today's young werewolves and most common mutation species, along with our specially designed courses for the supernaturally affiliated. Please select your course in the options below! Stydia, Scallison, and a moody Derek love triangle thrown in for good measure.
1. Chapter 1

_Welcome, to the P.G. Hale High School for the Werewolves and their Affiliates, established 1810. We offer courses for today's young werewolves and most common mutation species, along with our specially designed courses for the supernaturally affiliated. Please select your course in the options below!_

**Scott McCall **- 16 year old werewolf by bite, but with more to that thought than you'd think. Nothing is what it seems in the super natural world, and he's just starting to figure it all out...

**"Stiles" Stilinski **- while his first name is unknown, this prominent young scientist is anything but, at least in the werewolves' world. With various accomplishments under his belt as merely a sophomore, it's easy to underestimate deeper matters, however.

**Allison Argent**__- being one of the renowned Argents, the young werewolf huntress is a rising threat and ruthless killer. But when she's sent undercover to Hale High, could the tables have turned?

**Lydia Martin** - Hale High's it-girl, her importance as the "Wailing Woman" is increasing by the minute. But with all the danger of being so many different things and not knowing who she even _is_, what happens when she falls of track?

**Jackson Whittemore **- a mutation of the werewolf, this playboy needs to clean up his act and learn to control his abilities before his abilities control him.

**~: :~**

"Are you sure you have everything?" Chris asked his daughter for what could possibly have been the hundredth time that morning, as he hastily dropped onto a seat at the spacious dining table, a plate of perfectly browned toast and scrambled eggs awaiting him.

"Yes, Dad. I'm sure," Allison swiftly replied, daintily dipping her spoon into the bowl of cereal and scooping up an enormous amount of Frosties into it, carefully bringing it up to her perfectly glossed lips and trying not to spill milk on her new skirt. Her blood red fingernails drummed consistently on the pine wood table, the only tell that she was felt as nervous as her father did today.

Chris sighed and nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face as he tried to pick the right words for what he was about to say.

"Allison," he began, struggling to find the most persuasive words he could think of. She looked up from her cereal and nodded expectantly at him, as if to say _go on_. He sighed again, but began to voice his thoughts. "Allison, are you... are you sure you want to go through with this? I mean, I know you're not - well, maybe -"

"Dad," she gently said, stopping him from searching his brain in vain for the right words. "Don't worry about me so much. I'm almost 17, and I've been under training since I was 6. Nothing is going to happen to me if i go undercover in a school for werewolves for one semester."

Chris ran a hand through his tousled hair, obviously in frustration. "What if something does happen? Huh? What if they find out who you are? I don't doubt your abilities, Allison, but if a whole school full of _werewolves_ realizes you're a _werewolf hunter_, what do you think will happen? Even the best hunter wouldn't be able to fend them off. You shouldn't even be _allowed_ to do this, you're-"

"A daughter, I know. Sons are raised as soldiers, and daughters as leaders," she repeated the phrase she'd grown accustomed to hearing from her family over the years. "But there's nobody else who can do this, and you know it too. The only high school-aged Argent boys in this area are way to unreliable, which is why it must be me. Trust me, I'll be fine. Nothing will happen. All I have to do is find out their plots, their schemes, and their ways of thinking."

"What if something does happen?" He asked quietly, looking closely at Allison. "What if you die?"

She bit her lip and looked down, swirling her spoon in the now-soggy cereal. When she finally looked back up, there was a new found resolve in her eyes, and a determination Chris recognized from his father. "If I die, then I die an honorable soldier's death, doing what was right."

The resolve in her eyes was so intense even her father couldn't argue with it.

~: :~

"Stiles!" Scott yelled across the campus, spotting his extremely uncoordinated best friend trying to haul his suitcases and lacrosse gear across the crowded pavement, and in the process tripping over what seemed like a puddle and ultimately falling head first onto the ground in a plaid and denim blur. At the mention of his name his head shot up, eyes widened comically as he looked for whoever was calling him.

Scott shook his head in amusement as he sprinted up to where Stiles was sprawled over the pavement on, fighting his laugh.

"Need a hand, Stiles?" He asked, the mockery evident on his face as he effortlessly scooped up Stiles' luggage with ease.

Stiles scowled, clambering back onto his legs and brushing the dirt off his jeans with his hands. "Not everyone here has werewolf strength, you know."

Scott chuckled, hoisting his lacrosse gear over his shoulder and dragging Stiles' two suitcases along with him as the two started walking toward the dorms building on the other side of the campus.  
"Well, whatever helps you sleep at night..." Scott trailed off, nudging Stiles playfully.

"Shut up, your dog breath is getting to me," Stiles snapped, pushing Scott off.

He dramatically gasped, clutching his heart. "That hurt, man."

"How tragic. My heart bleeds for you," Stiles deadpanned, slowing down as they approached the dorms building. "Where's your stuff anyway?"

"I got here about an hour ago, and set up everything in my room already. We're room mates again, by the way," Scott explained, slowing his pace as well.

"Oh, joy. Another year spent with a demented werewolf who, once a month, will try and tear my limbs apart for the pure heck of it," Stiles scowled.

He wasn't trying to be mean, but the previous year when him and Scott were room mates he was almost killed on more than one occasion, as Scott had a tendency of going wild on full moon nights. His teacher, Derek, said it was because he hadn't found his 'anchor' yet. Stiles wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but he hoped Scott would find it soon.

"Derek says I've calmed down a lot over the summer though, so maybe it won't be that bad on full moon nights," Scott said, deliberating the topic. "Anyway, relax. Don't you wanna show her your smile?" He nodded at the red head strutting out of a black SUV at the front of the campus, her 4 bags and make up case being carried by a nervous skinny, short boy - undoubtedly a freshman - who struggled to keep up with her fast pace as she walked down the campus like the world was her runway, relishing in the attention she was getting as people everywhere stopped whatever they were doing to stare at her.

Scott peeked at Stiles, who gazed at her longingly. The corners of his mouth had turned up slightly as he stared at her, transfixed as though committing her every detail to memory. It wasn't a very far off guess, as it turns out - Stiles was in fact memorizing every perfect detail he saw as Lydia Martin swiftly walked up the pavement. He watched in admiration as her smooth, shiny legs moved elegantly in her high-heeled brown boots. Her hourglass figure was adorned in a mauve colored dress, that hugged her curves with the help of a brown belt at her waist. She had on a creamy leather jacket that set off her lightly tanned skin over that, and her red lips made Stiles want to kiss her senseless on the spot. Her hair was styled in effortlessly loose waves, and her make up was more neutral apart from her lipstick, but Stiles knew the amount of effort she'd have put into looking like that. He knew she always put a lot of effort into her looks, but nobody seemed to appreciate it the way it should be.

Nobody but Stiles.

Scott snapped his finger in front of Stiles' face, effectively knocking him out of the trance he seemed to be in. "She's coming this way, say hi to her!"

Stiles' eyes widened as he realized Lydia was quickly walking to the dorms building as well, and would probably pass by them in a few seconds. Any second now, any second...

Her alluring scent attacked his senses as she swished by the pair.

"Hey, Lydia!" Stiles called out after her not expecting any response as per usual. Which is why his heart almost stopped beating when the redhead - sorry, _strawberry blonde_ - suddenly stopped, startling the freshman trailing after her as he nearly dropped her things. Stiles could feel all eyes on him now, as Scott's eyes widened in disbelief.

Lydia whirled around, her luscious locks flying with her the way it happens in the movies. "Yes?"

Stiles wondered if he was about to have a panic attack, or maybe a heart attack. The girl he'd been obsessing over since the third grade - who under normal circumstances made it her personal mission to ignore Stiles - was actually acknowledging his presence. Stiles felt like he'd had an entire bottle of Adderall at one go, or like the time he and Scott were pulling an all nighter and got high off coffee and ice cream. Quickly realizing Lydia was patiently waiting for him to answer, he hurriedly started talking.

"Oh, I uh-well, I just um, wanted to-I just wanted to say-" he could've punched himself as he could see what an idiot he was making out of himself in front of the whole school and, more importantly, Lydia. He took a deep breath, before stepping closer to her and started speaking more quietly, so only she could hear him now, despite everyone around straining their ears to hear (and all the werewolves amongst them succeeding) in hearing the exchange. "I just wanted to say you look beautiful - really, really beautiful - today," Stiles said, mentally hugging himself for not messing up again.

Lydia's eyes widened slightly, and for a second a delicate, almost raw expression flashed through her eyes before quickly disappearing and being replaced by the careful, practiced neutralness he had grown used to seeing in her green orbs.

"Thank you..." she trailed off, as though thinking of what his name was (though secretly, she had known Stiles Stilinski ever since kindergarten, when the teacher had grown so exasperated with trying to help him write his overly-complicated first name that they had just settled for letting him write 'Stiles' on his work; the name had stuck since)

"Stiles," he supplied without missing a beat.

"Stiles," she repeated, nodding. She flashed him a smile before whirling back around and walking into the building. Nobody seemed to have noticed the smile she was hiding.

Stiles slowly turned around to face a grinning Scott, ecstatic that _finally_ Lydia had noticed his best friend.

"What in holy hell was that?"

~: :~

Derek took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he pressed his tired, bruised hands against the cool glass window. He struggled to keep himself from thinking of the various flashbacks that haunted him, but as usual his efforts were in vain. His jaw instinctively clenched, his eyes scrunching from the pain as he started thinking of her.

_Paige._

Her name made shivers run down his spine as he grinded his teeth against each other, as he felt his muscles tense up. Her long, brown hair. Her chocolate-brown eyes, that he'd gotten lost in time and time again. Her smooth, fair skin that always contrasted with his own tanned complexion. She felt close, so close, he could almost feel her warm breath on him, her soft hands wrapped around his neck. It felt so real, so vivid - for a spilt second Derek almost felt like she was still here, laughing at his stupid jokes and kissing his cheek for no reason. It all felt so _right_ - God, he could feel her soft lips on his neck and her hands winding through his dark hair.

Till she screamed. Her petite frame was suddenly covered in blood, and he could almost feel her shrill cries of pain as she sobbed, blood pouring out of her mouth, streaming down her arms, dampening her shirt. She was screaming in anguish, begging for him to help her, take her pain away as he watched in despair, unable to do anything but kill her in the end.

He killed her. He murdered her, he killed her. Derek's fists were clenched so tight that the skin on his knuckles was a startling shade of white, as tears freely fell down his face as he let out a strangled yell.

_You killed her. It's your fault._ _You're a murderer._

The words echoed through his brain like they were on loop as he clutched head in despair, willing the memories to go away as he fell down to his knees, his face a damp mixture of sweat and tears. He sank into the soft carpet, pressing his head against the cold window, taking deep breaths till finally, the flashback stopped. The tears slowed down, and he quickly wiped them away. He knew any minute now either Lydia or any new students under his guidance would be coming in, and his current state wouldn't be giving them the best impression, if anybody ever got a good impression, of him.

He hurriedly wiped the sweat off his face with a tissue, sinking into the black leather chair behind his desk. He drummed his fingers on the desk restlessly. He always thought of Paige, but the gruesome flashbacks were normally worse around this time of year as her death anniversary was in a few weeks. He shook his head as if to clear it from his previous thoughts, and powered up the laptop in front of him so it would at least _look_ like he was doing something if anybody were to come in.

Which, it would seem, was about to happen as he could hear the all-too-familiar sound of high heels hitting the hardwood floor from down the hallway outside his office. Lydia, from the sound of it. Derek didn't really know anyone else who wore high heels to school every day and stopped at his office every morning as well, so Lydia seemed like the best guess.

As if on cue, his door swung open - Lydia never bothered with knocking - and in she walked, her hair flying behind her. She looked fresher than the last time he'd seen her - emotionally drained and physically wrecked outside the school the day before summer vacation.

Derek raised his eyebrows at her fierce expression as she swiftly dropped into one of the chairs for visitors opposite his desk.

"Since when did I become a public spectacle?" She asked, hitting her clenched fist on his desk in anger.

"Excuse me?" Derek asked, unsure what exactly she was getting to. With some one like Lydia, you always had to be careful about what you said to her.

"I mean," she started, now massaging the bridge of her nose with her fingers as she often did when she was pissed off, "As soon as I walked into the school every one was staring at me like I was some sort of freak show or something."

"Doesn't that always happen?" Derek asked, confused. Lydia, despite being a banshee, had always been popular. In fact, the minute she walked into a room he'd noticed all the students would watch her - some with jealousy, some with admiration, some with adoration and some with love - but stare at her they would all the same.

She frantically shook her head, making her carefully styled hair bounce around her face in a slightly alien manner. "People stare at me like I'm on a runway, but today they were staring at me like I was wearing a potato sack!"

Derek furrowed his eyebrows. "How can you even tell differences between the way people stare at you?"

She scowled at him. "I just can! Do something about it! It's so annoying when people look at me like that, as if they feel sorry for me or something. And then when I was talking to Stiles, everyone was trying to hear what he was saying to me!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you talk to Stiles?"

Lydia bit her lip. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't even bother to look at Stiles. She knew people considered it incredibly odd that she actually acknowledged him today, let alone spoke to him as well. Maybe it was something to do with what had happened on the last day of school, mere months ago. She wasn't sure. She just felt like things between her and him were different now.

"Since when do you wear colors?" She shot back, ultimately deciding to ignore his question and referring to his blue shirt, a stark contrast from his normal choice of black, greys and other dull colors. Lydia had often compared his dressing style to the Grim Reaper, in fact.

Derek rolled his eyes, ignoring that she was ignoring his question for now. "It's about time you noticed the poor kid, you know."

Her eyes widened slightly before she frowned. "Goodbye, Derek." She got up from her seat and walked out as swiftly as she came in.

"It's Mr Hale to you!" He called after her, something he had to repeat to Lydia many times a day, everyday, ever since he met her.

"Mr Hale is your psychotic uncle," she snapped at him, storming out of his office.

He sighed, already tired and waiting for the day to finish. The fact that it hadn't even officially started, however, rather dampened his hopes. He knew Lydia was annoyed with him, as she always was when anyone tried to give her any advice or commented on her personal life. But then again, annoying the heck out of people like Lydia and the rest of the students placed under his guidance, was one of the perks of his dull, dull job.

Aimlessly flipping through old emails, Derek tried to keep himself entertained as he waited for any new students or teachers under his team -ironically called his 'Pack' - who arrived today. Today was the first day for students and teachers to start coming in and settling down in their dorms. It was Friday, and classes were officially starting that Monday, which gave everyone time to settle in.

Derek, being a 'Pack Leader' (both literally and metaphorically - literally as he was an Alpha werewolf with his own pack and metaphorically as being the leader of his 'pack' of sophomore students), had to be in his office for all three of these days, as anybody new or under specific instructions like Lydia would have to check in with him before finding their rooms.

The way Hale High worked, being a school for werewolves and those affiliated with them, was that in your freshman year students were placed in 'packs' of 20, and each of them had a 'pack leader'. This 'pack leader' stuck with you throughout high school, and hypothetically helped you out with any problems you may have, slightly like a counsellor. Normal teachers were also placed into these packs at random, and the pack leader was who they were to turn to should any issues arise. The leader would also help subdue the werewolves in his pack on the full moon nights, especially new ones, or help keep non-werewolves safe.

Most of these pack leaders were already Alphas with their own packs, either outside of the school or people in their assigned pack. In Derek's case, his pack consisted of people whom he himself had given the Bite - people he had seen potential in - apart from Scott McCall. Scott and Derek had a history, for lack of a better term, one too tedious to be explained at this point.

Just as Derek was about to fall asleep on his laptop, a loud knock on his door woke him up. He groaned, waking up and sitting up straighter.

"Yes?" Derek called, not looking up from his emails.

The door deftly opened, and some one stepped into the room. When he still didn't look up, he heard some one loudly clear their throat. He sighed, before finally looking up to see who it was.

A girl, probably his own age, stood at his door. She held a determined expression in her bright, blue eyes, and her eyebrows were raised at Derek. Her blonde hair fell in loose curls around her face, and she was wearing a light blue blazer paired with a white dress underneath stopping mid-thigh, along with blue heels. Her make-up reminded him of Lydia, as he could see all the precision and effort put into it - from the the foundation dusted on her bright lipstick to the way her pale blue eyeshadow was perfectly blended and in place.

Derek grimaced at her matchiness.

"Yes?" He repeated, motioning for her to introduce herself.

She rolled her eyes slightly. "Well, aren't you charming."

He rolled his own eyes. "Do I know you?"

She shrugged, clutchig her handbag slightly tighter. "No, but unfortunately I know you."

Derek raised his eyebrows. "Oh, really?"

She nodded, walking into his office and settling herself on the edge of his desk, her dress raising up slightly. "If the wall of certificates behind you is anything to go by, you must be the famous Derek Hale." She trailed her manicured nails on his desk, running her fingers over his laptop. "I'm a new teacher here."

Her sultry voice (if a voice could even be sultry) somewhat ruined the professionalism of her statement, but Derek ignored it. "Oh, really?" He repeated, his tone more questioning as he eyed her short skirt and high heels. "I'm pretty sure that hem line is a dress code violation, Miss..."

"Avery," she supplied, inching closer to him. "Crystal Avery." She leaned over, running a finger over his collar bone and trailing it up his neck to his cheek.

"Miss Avery, I hope you plan on being more professional when school starts," Derek said, firmly taking her hand off him.

She threw her head back, crossing one thigh over the other and making her skirt rise up more. "You know something that worries me? The professionalism of everything. Tell me, Derek, what's professionalism?"

"Professionalism," Derek started, pushing her off his desk and earning an eye roll from her, "is what's going to pay your bills this month. I suggest you use it."

Crystal smirked. "Professionalism is only used where profession is." She trailed her finger down his face again, moving before he could brush her fingers away. She deftly pulled a file out of her purse, pressing it onto his desk. "Nice to meet you, Mr Hale."

She strutted out, turning only to wink at him before walking out the door. Derek threw his head back in frustration, wondering for the life of him who the hell lacked enough brain cells to hire a Barbie doll like her. As if his job wasn't hard enough, he now had the added stress of a seductive, sexy, young new teacher whom his hormonal students would no doubt fantasize about, if her figure and dressing was anything to go by.

_Just freaking great,_ he thought to himself. He knew there was supposed to be two more new teachers coming in, and he hoped they wouldn't be anything like Crys-Miss Avery. Before he could do anything, though, his phone started buzzing. Quickly checking it, he groaned when he realised he was a text from the secretary.

_A fight just started outside the gates, the claws have come out so i can't do anything. Both boys are in your pack, get here now._

He groaned, burying his face in his hands. This day just kept getting better and better.

Hi This is my first attempt at Teen Wolf fanfiction (or any fanfiction, actually) and it would mean the world if you let me know what you think!

~CallMeCrazyx


	2. Chapter 2

Hiii (: Sorry for the unexplainable lateness, but here's chapter two Cx Even though personally I find it pretty crappy, but here it is lol. And omyFREAKINGdays, 3 reviews and a whole bunch of favorites and follows? *wipes tear* I LOVE YOU! Hehe, so, shoutout to Lexim325, Daniellands and the guest that reviewed, and I hope y'all like this chapter tho it's not that great. And for all the silent readers that are back for round two, stay trippy Cx btw to the guest that asked about Derek and Lydia, they know each other well but that's part of the storyline which will be revealed as we go along.

Also, does anybody want me to upload FCs for Crystal and Lux on my tumblr?

Enjoy, Ari xo

"Name?" Miss Clarke, the prim receptionist asked, not even looking up from her expensive widescreen Mac, tapping away on the keyboard and stopping only to push her glasses up and move her wispy blonde bangs out of her face, only for them to fall back.

"Lydia Martin," the strawberry blonde replied, looking at her nails in boredom. The receptionist briefly looked up, recognition flashing in her eyes which puzzled Lydia; Miss Clarke had never recognized her before.

"Ah yes, Miss Martin," she said, nodding slightly. She typed up something else before hitting enter, and the printer behind whirred to life a few seconds later. A minute later she had a stack of papers and letters ready in a pile and she handed it to Lydia with a professional smile. "Who was your room mate last year?"

"Uh... Florence James?" Lydia said, though it sounded more like a question as she couldn't quite remember Florence's last name.

Miss Clarke shrugged, as if to say it didn't matter. "Well, whoever she was, requested a room change. She said she couldn't sleep at night because of your constant... screaming, is it?"

"The appropriate term would be wailing, but screaming works," Lydia said, her mouth set in a thin line. She and Florence hadn't exactly been the best of friends, but she felt slightly annoyed and even hurt that she changed her room without even telling Lydia.

"Right," Miss Clarke nodded, tapping her pen on the counter.

"Wait, so does that mean I don't have a room mate?" Lydia asked, frowning slightly. She knew that she wouldn't be able to sleep without some one else in the room being there. It was like a default thing now for her. She couldn't sleep until she heard someone else in the room with her, and many times last year despite Florence being one of the most annoying room mates ever, she had only been able to fall asleep to the sound of her breathing.

But Miss Clarke was shaking her head, "No, you were initially put alone but Mr Hale made us put you with a new student instead," she said, back at her computer.

"So who's my room mate?"

"It should say on one of those documents," she gestured vaguely at the pile of papers in Lydia was holding, eyes trained on her screen again.

Lydia nodded, turning slowly and starting to walk out of the front office and into the hallway outside leading to dorms, her heels tapping on the tiled floor. She kept walking slowly, as she was sifting through the various papers and looking for the envelope with her room number and keys. She knew Derek would have been the one who insisted on her having a room mate, not Peter (it was often confusing for people to tell which Mr Hale was being talked about as there were two) but she still couldn't help but wonder whom he had put her with. Many people found it, well, _overwhelming_, to share a room with a banshee.

After finally locating the envelope and opening it (read:wrestling with it and ultimately having to rip off the top), she pulled the keys out with an exaggerated sigh. 10 minutes later, she was finally in her new room. It was fairly large for a school to supply, and was comfortable for two people to live in. There were two beds; one by the window and the other by the wall the door was on. The walls were painted a light purple, and the curtains were a slightly darker hue of purple that matched the rug in the middle of the room. One of the things Lydia liked about Hale High was that they put a lot of effort in making it as state-of-the-art as they could manage. This meant amazing dorms, a vast field for lacrosse and football, indoor and outdoor swimming pools, a basketball court, and a cafeteria with edible food.

To the front of the room was a small TV, along with two desks set in a L-shape with built in drawers as well as three shelves each. There was a large wardrobe next to that, made of honey colored pine wood. The right door opened up to reveal a full length mirror. Lydia kicked off her boots, sitting on the bed near the wall and rubbing at her sore toes. The beds were bare, with only mattresses on them. Most people preferred to bring their own sheets and blankets, so the school didn't provide any of those things. Lydia's own dark pink sheets were in one of her bags, and she couldn't be bpthered getting to them right now. She lay down on the bare bed, rolling over on her stomach so she could see outside the window. She could never sleep next to the window, because she always had a constant fear of something happening.

The science outside was amazing, though. The trees dotted all over the campus were shedding their leaves, in their different hues. The golden leaves swayed in the wind, along with stray ones gently drifting to the ground. She could see people everywhere, as the dorms building had a great view of the courtyard. There were people coming in, people hanging out, people looking for other people... Chaos, basically.

She closed her eyes, nestling her face into her arms. She just wanted a rest.

**~: :~**

Stiles leaned against the cold wall, fidgeting with his fingers. He was waiting outside the dorms building for Scott, who was helping some new girl find her way to Derek's or the receptionist's, he wasn't sure who. However, he hadn't missed the way Scott was already acting like a lovesick doggy (Ha, doggy. And werewolf. See what he just did there? No? K.) around her. Scott was cool but on the romance front? He was even worse than Stiles was with Lydia; people just didn't realise because the last time he had a crush on a girl was Mariela Romero in sixth grade. And that was one hard-core crush, alright. (You don't want the details, trust me)

He started tapping his foot on the ground, restless and annoyed that Scott was taking so long. Seriously, the receptionist was all but ten feet away from him and Derek's office was pretty close by too. Stiles sighed, folding his arms across his chest and bouncing on the balls of his feet, trying to occupy himself till Scott came back and mentally punching himself for taking a double dose of Adderall this morning. He had thought he'd need it, having had a sleepless night the day before, but all the extra energy was giving him a severe case of jumpiness.

Ergh.

"Excuse me?" He was snapped out of his thoughts by a woman standing in front of him. She was towing two bags behind her and her purse was falling off her shoulder, and the wind was blowing tendrils of hair out of her messy bun and into her hazel-colored eyes. She looked older, too old to be his age, but too young to be a teacher too.

His eyes widened slightly and he stumbled forward, trying to push himself off the wall. Quickly regaining his composture, he looked up at her and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Wha- Uh, um, yes?"

She arched her right eyebrow slightly, and he could see the amusement in her eyes. "Hi, are you a student here?"

"Uh, yeah?" Stiles said, though it came out more like a question. "Why else would a 16 year old be here with a backpack on registration day?

She grinned,and the amusement in her eyes grew. "You know what? I like you."

Stiles raised his eyebrows. "Um, okay?"

She rolled her eyes. "So, do you think you could help me out?"

"That depends on what you need help in, so..." Stiles trailed off, shrugging.

"Can you show me where Derek Hale's office is?"

**~: :~**

"Oh my Jesus, Kira, get out!" Peter groaned, burying his head into his hands and on the verge of literally pulling his hair out.

The aforementioned Kira chuckled, but lazily complied and slowly lifted herself out of the seat in front of Derek's desk, stretching. "It's always a pleasure to piss you off, Peter." She chuckled, walking out the door.

"It's Mr Hale," came his muffled response before she shut the door, laughing.

Peter sighed in bliss as he heard her footsteps fade away as she walked down the hall and away from him. Kira was one person who seemed to find an inhuman amount of pleasure in pissing him off, and he didn't even want to recall the past 15 minutes. He wanted to throw the desk out of the window at this point, but seeing as it was Derek's that probably wouldn't be the best idea. Derek was on a coffee break(translation: he wanted to Kira to piss Peter off and conveniently called him to fill for him just as Kira walked onto the campus) which thwarted Peter's plans of trashing the room as a re-energized and angry Derek wasn't a pretty sight. Just as he was about to start punching the wall behind him, a knock on the door stopped him. Taking a deep breath, he clenched his fists and clamped his eyes shut, his murderous mood (courtesy of a certain Yukimura) receded slightly.

Sniffing the air lightly, he could tell that it was Scott and... someone who smelt like flowers? "Yes, Scott?"

The door swung open, and as predicted, Scott walked in, along with the flower person. Upon further inspection, Flowers turned out to be a girl with long brown hair and a nervous expression tainting her delicate features.

_Too nervous_, Peter thought to himself. _As if she's afraid._

"Hey, Peter," Scott said, stretching out the 'e' sound in 'hey'. He rubbed the back of his neck before stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans, leaning against the wall. "Where's Derek?"

Peter rolled his eyes, though his amused smile showed he wasn't annoyed. "Scott, you reek of nervous. Haven't you ever been around girls before?"

Scott's jaw dropped open and he sputtered what sounded like fish noises a couple of times, while Flowers held a slightly puzzled, amused expression. "Peter!"

He held up his hands in surrender, "It's the truth! Your utter nervousness is astounding. It's as if you never walked a girl somewhere before."

Scott, now mortified, buried his face in his hands and muttered something that suspiciously sounded like "Can you please die again?" while Flowers' cheeks were now a bright red. Just as Peter was about to continue embarrassing them, Derek walked in with a mug of coffee in his hand. He paused when he noticed Peter trying not to laugh, Scott facepalming and some girl he didn't recognize blushing scarlet.

"Peter," Derek said slowly, raising his eyebrows. "What did you do?"

The older Hale finally cracked, laughing hysterically while Derek groaned, shaking his head in despair.

Fifteen minutes later, Peter had been (literally) kicked out of Derek's office, Scott was waiting outside after arguing with Derek for ten minutes about why he should slash Peter's throat again, and the brunette girl he had brought was sitting in the chair previously occupied by Kira.

"So, you're a new sophomore, correct?" Derek asked, flipping through the papers in the file she'd given him.

"Yes," she said, staring at her nails.

"You're full name is Allison Cambridge?"

"Yes."

"You had to repeat eighth grade because your family moved around too much?"

"Yes."

"You have perfect grades?"

"Yes."

"How do you know about the supernatural?"

She looked up from her nails, and he could literally smell the nervousness radiating off her.

Interesting.

"My mother's brother's wife was bitten."

"Your aunt?"

She nodded, but Derek didn't miss the jump in her pulse.

"Allison, are you lying?"

"Why does this sound like an interrogation?"

"Why are you hiding things?"

"I'm not!"

Derek paused, surveying her frazzled expression, and the fear in her eyes. He could feel his eyes glowing, so he must have been scaring her.

"Alright, Allison. If you say so." He said slowly.

"Can I leave now?"

"Of course," Derek said. As she was about to get up, he continued. "After one more question."

She bit her lip, but nodded.

"Why haven't your parents come with you?"

She took a deep breath. "Something came up, and they had to go to New York. They dropped me here on the way to the airport."

Derek nodded, leaning back in his chair and gesturing for her to leave.

Once she was out, he spoke again.

"Scott, I know you're listening. Keep an eye on her."

After a few seconds, he heard a cough from outside his door and footsteps starting to fade away.

**~: :~**

"So, what's your name?" Stiles asked, guiding the girl across the crowded campus to Derek's office.

"Lux. What about you?" She replied, dragging along her two suitcases. "Jesus, I have way too many bags."

Stiles stopped, glancing at her stuff before fixing her with an _are you serious_ look. "Dude, I saw this lady walk in a couple of hours ago with like, six bags. Trust me, you're good."

After walking for a few more seconds, she turned to him again. "So, you're name?"

"Stiles. Here, let me-" he started, grabbing the handles of one of her bags. After much protests from her ("I'm not a girl!" "You kind of are?"), Stiles pulled along one of her bags as they neared the Dorms building where Derek was.

"How old are you, Stiles?" She asked, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

"Oh, I'm 16. Sophomore. You?" He replied, pushing open the door and allowing her to walk in first.

"22."

Stiles' eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open. "22? I thought you were a senior!"

Her own eyes widened, before she seemingly choked over air. "A senior? Oh, Lord no. Hell no." She repeatedly shook her head, as though trying to clear the thought from her mind.

"Wait, does that mean you're a teacher?" Stiles asked, turning the corner into the hallway where Derek was.

Lux nodded, "I'm teaching literature, but I'm qualified to teach advanced physics, standard chemistry, math obviously, and I've had a lot of supernatural encounters."

Stiles raised his eyebrows, as though the idea of so many things was unfathomable. "Are you sure you're just 22?"

"Positive," she replied as they came to a stop outside the door marked _Derek Hale_. "Thank you for the help, Stiles."

"Oh, its not a problem. Do you want me to wait for you so I can show you to the receptionist?"

She shook her head. "No, I think I've taken enough of your time. Scott must be waiting for you," she said, gesturing to the end of the hall where they had just come from.

Stiles nodded. "Alright then, I'll see you around, Lux." He turned to go, though after taking a few steps he froze as a thought struck him. "Hey, Lux? How did you-" he turned around, only to see the door to Derek's office close. "-know who Scott was..." he finished, scanning the empty hall.

Something was definitely wrong here.

Meanwhile, Lux had burst into Derek's office.

"Does nobody understand the concept of knocking?" Derek muttered, refusing to look up from his laptop where he was engrossed in a game of Mahjong.

"You expect me, of all people, to knock? Come on, you should know me by now," Lux chuckled, leaning against the wall.

He looked up, all thoughts of his game evaporating as the shock became evident on his face. "Lux?"


	3. Chapter 3

Hey Im so sorry for the crappy last chapter, and I hope this is better! Enjoy (:

"Are you human?" Allison asked, staring at Lydia in awe from her bed as the strawberry-blonde perfectly applied her lipstick, pouting at her reflection in the mirror inside the closet.

Lydia paused, meeting Allison's eye in the mirror and arching her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

"Oh, oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for that to come out like that, really, I didn't mean to offend-" she started, widening her eyes as she realized the implications behind her question, but was cut off by Lydia dismissively waving her hand in the air.

"You worry too much," she said, giving herself a once over in the mirror before finally turning to face the brunette, her loosely curled hair flying behind her as she did so.

Allison breathed out a sigh of relief, flopping backwards into the soft bed and stretching. "But seriously, it's like 7:30 in the morning and you look so... perfect."

Lydia frowned, as if the thought had never struck her before, then whirled around again to look in the mirror. She had woken up at 6:30 to do her hair, and was wearing a mauve-colored floral print dress with a light brown cardigan and matching brown booties. Her make-up was relatively light, with onlyj Concealer under her eyes and light pink lipstick.

She turned back to Allison and let off a light shrug, bending down to scoop her Michael Kors purse from the floor. "It's a gift," she said by way of explanation, before plucking out a few beaded bracelets from her suitcase (which she still hadn't gotten around to unpacking) and sitting down gently on her bed. She stretched her hand under the pillow as Allison watched, and pulled her phone out of it triumphantly.

"Why do you keep your phone under the pillow?" She asked, finally sitting up and pushing the soft blanket off her.

"They try to talk to me sometimes," Lydia replied without missing a beat, turning her phone on and stuffing it in her bag.

Allison nodded slowly, confusion evident on her face. What who was they that talked to Lydia on a phone that was off?

Lydia glanced at Allison's opened suitcase, where, incidentally, her (Allison, not Lydia's) brand-new Coach boots were lying on top of. Turning back to Allison, she placed a manicured hand on her hip. "Meet me at the Starbuck's down the road in twenty minutes for breakfast, then we can head back here. Classes will be starting by then," she said, throwing her bag over her shoulder and walking out the door.

Allison frowned, unsure what had just happened. Ever since Friday when she had met Lydia, she had realised the girl wasn't particularly Miss Sunshine and Rainbows. Neither of the girls had seen much of eachother on Saturday, as Lydia was who-knows-where and Scott had been showing Allison around campus, and on Sunday she'd been unpacking whilst Lydia was again out for most of the day, with her boyfriend from what Allisln could gather. Scott had introduced her to some of his friends -Stiles, Kira and Isaac.

Clambering out of bed, she picked her phone up from the floor and typed in her password. Immediately it started vibrating as texts from her father started coming in. Smiling in amusement, she opened them up.

_9 new messages from Daddy 3_

_23:41: Allison, are you alright?_  
_23:42:Allison?!_  
_23:42: What happened?!_  
_23:45: Do you need me over there? _  
_23:46: I knew this was a bad idea._  
_23:47: That's it, I'm coming._  
_23:56: Your mother just reminded me it's almost midnight and you'd be asleep as you have school. Never mind._  
_00:04: Stay safe sweetie (: _(Allison giggled at the smiley, she knew he didn't normally use them)  
_07:09: Good morning, how are you?_

_1 new message from Mom_

_07:17: I think Dad might be losing his mind. Try texting him back every now and then._

Allison chuckled, quickly tapping out a message back to them.

_To Mom_

_Lol, I was sleeping._

_To Daddy 3_

_Hey, don't worry I'm fine. I was just asleep last night and rn I was waiting for my roommate to leave before checking your texts. Take care x_

Although her father's major overprotectiveness could be a huge pain, she was mostly grateful to have such a caring figure in her life. Although she knew her mother loved her, both of them had a hard time showing affection. It was more of an unspoken relationship. Neither mother nor daughter were close to the other, however, as Victoria tended to have fits of rage every now and then, and expected a more rebellious Allison to comply with her every command.  
With Chris though, it was different. After Victoria had been in Australia for most of last year tracking a werewolf pack with her brother, Allison and her father's bond had grown a lot stronger than before. She knew she could tell him anything and rely on him for whatever she needed, and that no matter what happened he would be there for her, even if it wasn't physically.

Making her way to the closet, she pulled out a light pink sweater and black skinny jeans. After a few moments of deliberation, she stuffed the sweater and jeans back in and replaced them with a blue and white striped crop top and a navy blue skirt which cinched at her waist and stopped a few inches above her knee, which seemed like a more appropriate first day of school outfit. If she was here undercover, she at least wanted to do it in style.

_1 new text message from Daddy 3_

_Have you met anybody? What's your roommate?_

Allison pursed her lip, pulling a towel out from the bottom of the closet and stepping into the adjoining bathroom. It was fairly plain, with a shower in one corner, a toilet in the other and a sink in between. There was a light purple towel-rug in front of the shower, and upon further inspection, the faucets were lined with a thin gold band on the side. Allison suspected it was more of a superstitious thing.

She pondered over her father's question as she put the shower on and peeled her clothes off, waiting for the water to warm up. She had met people, of course, but she wasn't sure if they were werewolves or not and it seemed a but impolite, almost suspicious, to ask. She didn't really think Lydia was a werewolf either, but again, she wasn't sure.

_To Daddy 3_

_I've met a few people, see if you can check up on them: Scott McCall, Lydia Martin and Isaac Lahey. Met Derek Hale on Friday, and a girl called Kira. I think she's Japanese, I'm not sure about her last name. Oh, and this guy named Stiles, he's Scott's best friend._

She hit the send button, before gingerly stepping into the shower, running her hands through her hair as the water ran down her body.

**~: :~**

"What kind of name is Lux?" Crystal asked, raising her light eyebrows and gingerly picking at her petite vanilla bean scone. She broke off a piece and stared at it suspiciously, before looking back up at Derek. "Are you sure this is 100 calories only?"

He pursed his lips, getting increasingly annoyed at the possibly brain dead blonde before him. "Yes, I'm sure," he said patronizingly, the way one would talk to a small child.

She hesitantly took a bite, looking at Derek's exasperated face. "So?"

"So what?"

"What kind of person names their kid Lux? Isn't that, like, a-"

"A measure of luminescence, yes, Crystal, I know," Derek snapped, shaking his head slightly.

A beat passed.

"I was going to say soap."

Derek's jaw dropped in disbelief, and he let his head drop and bang on the wooden table repeatedly, muttering something along the lines of "Lord help me", whilst Crystal watched in annoyance, toying with her scone and looking at his own chocolate croissant and cappuccino in disgust.

Derek looked up again, his eyes still widened as though he didn't believe it. "How did you even get _hired_?"

Crystal smirked, tossing her straightened blonde hair over her shoulder and pulling her shirt down, exposing more of her cleavage. "I have my ways."

Derek rolled his eyes, taking a long sip of his coffee. "Peter's such a dumbass."

She pouted, raising her eyebrows. "You wouldn't have hired me?"

He arched his right eyebrow. "Sweetheart, you have the IQ of a box of crayons."

She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Working with you is gonna be fun."

"You're telling me?"

A beat passed, as the duo glared at each other in silence.

"Why are we even here?" Crystal broke the silence, narrowing her eyes at the Starbuck's logo at the counter. She would have much preferred a granola bar rather than a vanilla scone for breakfast, and was annoyed at Derek dragging her all the way to Starbuck's.

"Because, I need to have a meeting with any new teachers in my pack before school starts, and the only free time we all had was breakfast on Monday," he explained, rolling his eyes. "If you'd actually bothered to read the email I sent you on Saturday, you'd know."

She huffed again, glaring at him. "So who else is coming?"

"Lux and another new teacher. I think his name was-"

"Charles Preston," a smoky, accented voice said from behind them. The duo whirled around to see a young-ish man approaching them, hands shoved in his pockets. He settled himself into an empty chair, winking at Crystal. "But you can call me Charlie."

Crystal identified the accent as British, and smirked to herself in glee. Maybe this job wouldn't be so boring after all. As she surveyed him, she was pleased to find out that he was rather good looking. He had brown hair, parted at the side, with piercing green eyes and high cheekbones with a spray of freckles. He was dressed simply, in a white collar-neck and khakis. She didn't fail to notice, however, the polo logo falling on his left collar bone.

"It's good to see you, Charlie," Derek said simply, shaking his hand. "What can I get you?"

"A latte would be great, thanks," Charlie said without hesitation.

Derek nodded, getting up to place the order and leaving the other two alone.

"Nice accent," Crystal commented, flipping through her phone.

"Nice body," he replied without missing a beat, causing her to look up sharply from her phone and raise her eyebrows at him.

"Well, aren't we adventurous," she chuckled, discreetly pulling down her shirt more all the same and exposing her chest.

"I was talking about me," he winked, before getting up and heading towards Derek and leaving Crystal with her jaw dropped open in disbelief. Did he actually have the audacity to mess around with her - her, Crystal Avery - and just walk away like that?

Bitch no.

"Although fly catching isn't the most attractive thing I've come across, that seems a rather interesting hobby to take up," a crisp voice said, and without warning a brunette girl dropped into the seat next to where Derek was sitting, her handbag falling off her shoulder.

"Huh?" She asked, somewhat confused.

"Your mouth," the girl said by way of explanation. It took a few seconds for Crystal to realize that her mouth had been hanging open, and she scowled.

"Who the hell are you, anyway?"

"Your co-worker, apparently," she replied, evenly meeting Crystal's threatening gaze with a hint of amusement, infuriating the blonde further.

Their stare-off was disrupted however, by Derek. "Well, it looks like we're all here now."

The two turned to face him and Charlie, who both were holding cups of Starbuck's goodness. Charlie swiftly took the seat next to Crystal, brushing his leg against her bare one as he sat down and earning an eye roll from her, though she made no attempt to move away. This, however, left Derek no choice but the seat next to Lux, which he dropped into hesitantly. He didn't miss the way she flinched and the slight jump in her heartbeat, even though she was listening to Charlie introduce himself ("Charles Preston, but you can call me Charlie," wink "Cambridge graduate in education and chemistry.") which Derek found amusing as the guy was maybe six years older than Lux and was bragging about being a qualified chemistry teacher, whilst the brunette herself had a Master's in secondary education and could teach literature, ad math, advanced physics and chemistry at 22.

"Charmed," she replied flatly, accepting his handshaking and not breathing a word of her own qualifications. She reminded Derek of Lydia - in fact, when he'd first met Lydia he'd told her that she reminded him of an 'old friend'.

"So, about this meeting, then," Charlie started, directing his gaze at Derek.

Right. Meeting. Let the fun begin, Derek smirked to himself.

**~: :~**

"You realize you're a guy, right? I mean, if you were a girl then I probably wouldn't be worried that you spent forty five minutes in front of a mirror this morning and now you're checking yourself out in the restroom, but..." Stiles dryly commented, leaning against the wall and watching in amusement as Scott repeatedly ran his hands through his hair.

Scott groaned in frustration, turning to face Stiles. "My hair won't go right! I can't help it!"

Stiles scoffed. "Dude, you're hair looks the same as it always does. You're just getting worked up over that new girl, aren't you - what's her name? Allison?"

"Stiles! Shut up!" Scott yelped, glancing around the empty bathroom and praying there was nobody outside that heard his friend.

Stiles held his hands up in surrender, shrugging. "It's true though."

Scott scowled in response, finally retiring from the mirror and picking up his book bag from the floor.

"You know, I don't particularly think she'd want to date some vain dude who's always checking himself out, like Jackson. I mean, have you seen him? It's like every reflective surface he finds has to turn into a mirror, and he'll literally just stand there, purring at himself," Stiles shuddered, shaking his head.

Scott cracked a smile, punching Stiles in the arm. "I'm not turning into Jackson," he stated firmly. "I just want to look presentable, for once. Is that so wrong?"

Stiles let out a strangled laugh, trying to disguise it as a random coughing fit. "Oh, oh, oh yeah, sure buddy," he coughed, covering his mouth. "Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."

Scott rolled his eyes, pushing the bathroom door open for Stiles and muttering a muffled "ladies first" and earning a punch from the him. "Do we have the same schedule?"

Stiles shrugged, pulling out a badly folded, creased paper from his jeans pocket and opening it up. "I have literature, AP Algebra,-" Scott shuddered at the thought and Stiles grinned "-free period, lunch, french, physics, AP chemistry, and I'm staying after school for an extra hour and a half for mythology and this werewolf biology research project thing Lydia's doing in the library. You?"

Scott shrugged, coming to a stop in front of his locker (Stiles had already been to his). "My schedule's somewhere in here, I haven't really bothered with checking it."

He put in his combination as Stiles leaned against the locker next to him, surveying the crowded hallway. "Hey, is that Allison?"

Scott dropped his lock on his foot, whirling around and scanning the hallway frantically. "What? Where?"

Stiles laughed, loudly. Scott glanced at him, realizing he was just messing around and scowling. "You should have seen your face," Stiles gasped in between his hysterical laughter.

"Shut up," he mumbled, swinging open the locker and pulling his crumpled schedule out, tossing it at a still-laughing Stiles.

He let out one last chuckle, un-crumpling the paper and comparing it with his own as Scott dumped his books into the locker. He cleared his throat. "Okay, we have - woah, you're taking mythology?"

Scott looked up. "What? Oh, yeah, my mom made me take it. It was either mythology or algebra practice, so..."

Stiles nodded, chuckling. "Okay, so it looks like we have pretty much the same schedule except you're taking standard chemistry and you're only staying after school for 45 minutes for mythology."

Scott nodded, grabbing his copy of Julius Caesar for literature (Derek had mailed a copy to everyone over the summer after finding out that their new literature teacher was starting them off with it) and shoving it in his book bag along with the thick algebra book he'd grown to loathe over the summer, when Melissa had made him practice.

He shut his locker just as the bell rang for classes to start, and he and Stiles made their way to their literature class. "Don't we have, like, three new teachers this year?"

Stiles nodded. "Yup. For literature, chemistry, and mythology."

"AP chemistry or standard chemistry?" Scott asked, confused. Mr Harris had always taught standard chemistry, and he didn't hear anything about him leaving.

"AP," Stiles clarified, smirking. "You still have Harris."

Scott groaned, facepalming, as they reached their literature class.

"Good morning, Mr McCall, Mr Stilinski," a crisp voice said as they stepped into the classroom.

Scott frowned, glancing around. Many people were already seated, and having their own hushed conversations. The two turned to the brunette writing something on the whiteboard, who was looking at them from the corner of her eye.

"Um, good morning?" Stiles said, though it came out more like a question.

"How do you know our names?" Scott asked wearily, eying her as she capped the purple marker she was using and set it down, turning to them fully.

"I know anybody and everybody, sweetheart," she replied, brushing her hair out of her eyes and looking at both of them in turn.

"Wait, aren't you Lux?" Stiles asked, furrowing his brows as he tried to remember.

Scott turned to Stiles. "You know her?" He asked, his tone almost accusatory.

She beamed. "Ms Aysal to you, but yes. I'm Lux, and you do indeed know me, Stiles."

She turned around, walking to her desk in the corner of the room and gesturing for them to sit down.

"How do you know her?" Scott asked, raising his eyebrows at Stiles.

"Isn't the bigger question how does she know us?" A sharp voice came from behind them, as they turned to find Lydia sitting down in a desk by the wall, with Allison sitting in front of her. The two had serious expressions on their faces, as though they were trying to work something out.

Scott quickly dropped into the desk beside Allison, and Stiles took the one behind him beside Lydia. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, Allison and I were the first people to come to class, and she knew exactly who we were. She even knew I was a banshee. Then a whole bunch of other people came in and she didn't even acknowledge them, till Jackson and Danny came in. She knew who they were, too." Lydia said in a hushed tone, glancing wearily at the teacher.

Stiles glanced around, quickly spotting Jackson talking with Danny a few seats behind them.

"She didn't know anyone else?" Scott asked, and Allison shook her head.

"We were watching her, and she recognize anyone other than us, till you guys came in," she explained.

"Hey, she's getting up," Stiles said urgently, and the four turned to look as she walked towards the door. As if on cue, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd walked in, laughing about something. As they watched, she spoke to them, and their laughs died down into looks of confusion as she gestured for them to take a seat.

"What did she say?" Lydia asked Scott quietly, even though all the talking going on meant if she was human she wouldn't be able to hear them.

"She knew who they were," Scott said, confusion clouding his eyes.

"Is this normal?" Allison piped up, glancing worriedly at the teacher and at Isaac, Boyd and Erica.

Scott frowned, shaking his head. "Not for me..."

Isaac, Erica and Boyd had taken seats in the row next to Stiles and Scott, with Isaac next to Scott, then Boyd, then Erica, who was waiting for Kira to take the seat behind her.

As Scott and Stiles turned to greet them and catch up, Lydia turned back to Allison. "I still wanna keep an eye on her."

Allison nodded. "Are you sure you don't just know her or something?"

Lydia scoffed. "I don't even know her name!"

"Who, the teacher?" Aiden (or Ethan?) asked, literally just materializing out of nowhere and making Lydia jump.

"You scared me!" She exclaimed, hitting him on his arm. He chuckled, rolling his eyes and turning to Allison as Ethan (or Aiden?!) appeared from behind them, leaving a befuddled Allison as she glanced between the two of them in confusion.

"And who do we have here?" Aiden or Ethan, Lydia couldn't tell which, asked, smiling.

"That's Allison, right?" A voice said, walking up to them as they turned to find Kira grinning. She quickly hugged both Lydia and Allison, pushing the twins out of her way and walking to Erica to give her a hug.

"Right," Lydia confirmed.

Both twins grinned, turning to each other and then to a slightly confused Allison. "I'm Aiden," the first one said, proving Lydia's initial guess right, "And this is Ethan," he gestured to his brother.

As the bell rang again, Aiden swiftly claimed the seat behind Lydia and Ethan took the one beside him and in front of Danny, who gave him a warm smile before turning back to Jackson.

"So this teacher, right? She knew who me, Ethan, and Kira were. She even knew that I was Aiden and he was Ethan," Aiden said quietly to Lydia. He could tell Ethan was listening, from the way his ears were perked, even though he was talking with Danny now.

Her eyes widened, and she quickly filled him in on what had happened with her and the others as Allison listened, texting some one.

Lydia opened her mouth to say some thing, but the class abruptly fell into a hushed silence, causing all of them to look to the front to see what was going on. As if on cue, Derek walked in, with a brunette girl.

"As happy as I am that your senses seem to be heightening, you guys seem to forget that if I want to then I can hear your talking from my office, so you don't need to abruptly shut up as soon as you smell me down the hallway," Derek commented dryly, glancing at the class in amusement before turning to the teacher and gesturing to the girl with him.

"Hey, do you recognize her?" Stiles asked Lydia quietly, who nodded after studying the girl.

"Malia Tate," she said, turning to Stiles.

"Your memory is awesome."

Malia had been in their class in middle school, but she'd gone to Beacon Hills High whilst they'd gone to Hale High as supernaturally affiliated beings.

"What's she doing here?" Scott whispered to Lydia, who shrugged.

After a few minutes, Derek gave Malia a reassuring smile and nodded at the young teacher, before leaving. The teacher pointed at the seat behind Stiles and in between Kira and Aiden whilst the class began talking again, and Malia walked toward it briskly.

As she sat down, Stiles slowly turned around. "Hey, Malia, right?"

She frowned, before realization dawned on her face. "Stiles?"

He grinned and nodded, and was about to say something else when the teacher began talking.

"Alright, guys, we're done talking now," she said, surprisingly loudly for some one so small, as the chatter died down. She smiled, satisfied. "I'm Miss Aysal, and I'm you're new literature teacher."

Lydia stiffened, her pen pausing in mid-air as her eyes widened. Stiles glanced at her, concerned. "Lydia? What's wrong?"

"Did she say her name was Miss Aysal?" She asked, the worried undertone of her voice causing all of the werewolves - Scott, Isaac, Boyd, Erica, Aiden, Ethan, and Malia - to start listening. Allison turned to her raising an eyebrow, whilst Kira, too far away to hear, asked Erica what was going on.

Stiles nodded, uncertainly.

Lydia shook her head. "This could be totally unrelated, but Aysal means full moon in Turkish."

**~: :~**

_1 new text message from Daddy 3_

_Careful with Derek. He's incredibly smart. As for the others you mentioned, most of them seem harmless. Find out what Kira's last name is, though. Lydia Martin is one of Derek's private students, which means she spends a lot of time with him so take care. As for Stiles, the only Stiles I can find would be 'Stiles' Stilinski. His first name is unknown, but he's really intelligent and very well known supernaturally despite being human. Take care, Allison._

_Hey, Dad? Do you know anyone named Lux Aysal?_

_Allison, how do you know Lux?_

I hope you liked it! Please lmk wht you think? ~CallMeCrazyx


End file.
